


seeing stars

by LunarLouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Feminization, Hair Salon AU, I don't even know what to tag this, M/M, Public Sex, Uni AU, i think, lol thats a tag, so yeah theres that, sort of, they fuck with their clothes on, um, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarLouis/pseuds/LunarLouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Harry sighs and bites his lip. How do you explain Louis? Harry is still having trouble believing the beautician is a real person. Looking back at his tiny waist and wide hips, round bum and thick thighs, delicate hands and strong demeanor, Harry can’t pick any description for him other than ethereal. He radiated something like royalty and Harry waits anxiously for him to (hopefully) call.</em><br/> <br/><em>“He’s—“ Shit, where does he even begin? Better yet, what can he say that will do Louis justice without landing himself a year’s worth of teasing? “Um, well I think he’s a drag queen.” He grimaces. Nailed it.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Harry attends uni and Louis works at the hair salon down the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seeing stars

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this was supposed to just be a short pwp and an excuse to write about Louis doing girl things but turned into a giant monster with a little bit of plot and me trying to fit as many girly things into this as possible.
> 
> Like, me and my beta [Tia](http://quiietwhiispers.tumblr.com) got _really_ excited about this fic. So, I have a couple of links to go with this:  
>  Louis' outfits: [xxx](http://i62.tinypic.com/2nk5hli.png) (pretend that shirt is a peplum lol), [xxx](http://i58.tinypic.com/9un7v8.png), [xxx](http://i60.tinypic.com/zmnmtw.png)  
> Louis' house: (this one has nothing to do with the story, we just had a lot of fun planning his house idk)  
> [xxx](http://i57.tinypic.com/11t6d6w.jpg), [xxx](http://i57.tinypic.com/kd4p41.jpg), [xxx](http://i58.tinypic.com/2pq5keb.jpg), [xxx](http://i60.tinypic.com/2co04tc.jpg), [xxx](http://i57.tinypic.com/143djzp.jpg), [xxx](http://i57.tinypic.com/2ebzx3o.jpg)
> 
> The point of view switches, so it's marked by a star for Harry and a flower for Louis.
> 
> WARNING: This has content that may be offensive to drag queens and cross dressers. If I have offended you, I am very sorry. This is just a fantasy of mine and I had no intention of offending anyone, but I know it's possible I did.
> 
> Title taken from Seeing Stars by First State.
> 
> And that's about it :) Enjoy ♡

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=255ox0n)

 

Harry sighed as Niall threw yet another tiny paper ball in his hair. He pursed his lips upwards and blew hard until the piece of trash tumbled back out of his long curls, joining the growing pile on the table. Harry, Niall and Niall’s boyfriend, Zayn, were all sitting at a table on the second floor of the library. He met up with them after mass comm and together they decided on an air-conditioned place to finish up homework; it was too hot outside to sit at their usual spot underneath the big tree in the quad.

Harry was trying to be good, really he was. Getting kicked out of the library was the last thing he wanted to do. He had two papers due tomorrow and marketing homework due in 2 hours that he hasn’t even touched yet and he just wants to get them done. But _Niall_. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes in an attempt to stay calm and not raise his voice at his best friend. “Niall, I swear to God, if you throw one more I’m going to—“ He cuts himself off as the last piece of paper Niall had balled up from an old test he’d failed came sailing over, landing gently in his floppy fringe.

“That’s it!” Harry exclaims before launching himself over the table, effectively knocking Niall out of his chair and they tumble to the ground in a fit of giggles. “I’ll get you for that, Horan!” He crows, wrestling the laughing blond until he could fit both of his pale wrists in one hand, freeing his other. He brought his unoccupied hand down to the Irishman’s sides, tickling everywhere he could.

The response was comical. Niall squealed and his laughter turned a little breathless, his body writhing under Harry’s to try and dislodge the taller boy. Harry was ruthless, though. He squeezed Niall’s hips with his legs to make him stop moving and then trailed his fingers up under Niall’s armpits, snickering as Niall tries fruitlessly to yank his wrists free from Harry’s strong grip.

“Zayn! Babe, help me! Save me from this big, fat monster!” Niall panted out between fits of giggles. He had tears in his eyes and his face was flushed a brilliant pink that spread down his neck. Harry looked over just in time to see Zayn shake his head no, laughing at Niall’s expense. Niall used Harry’s temporary distraction to kick his legs up sharply and plants his feet firmly on the ground, giving him enough leverage to wiggle his hips and buck up, using the momentum to throw himself at Harry and roll them over so that their positions were switched. “Aha!” Niall cried.

Harry lay there in shock until a dark shadow fell over the two boys. Harry tilted his head to get a better look. It was the librarian. She was in khaki bellbottoms with a retched green shirt that had weird ruffles in the middle. Her face was etched with deep wrinkles and her lips were pulled taught in a disapproving frown. She looked pissed.

“There is no rough housing in the library. You may either get up and leave or I will call the campus police for disrupting the other students’ studying.”

Niall quickly stood up and offered Harry a hand, which he took, and they packed their things and left. They’ve all had run-ins with the campus police, enough that they are all on a first name basis. Harry’s attended more campus parties than he’d like to admit, especially since this is his third year at Uni. He’s been caught pissing in the bushes outside the honors dorm, stealing a stop sign, spray painting ‘Niall sucks dick!’ on a bin near the senior parking lot, and passed out on a curb after he popped too many X tablets. He should be taking things more seriously he supposes, but. Oh well.

Niall and Zayn walk in front of Harry, hands linked and swaying between their bodies. Where Niall walks with almost a skip in his step, Zayn walks in a lazy way, like he really couldn’t be bothered with such a simple human function. Harry will never say so out loud, but he really loves their love. The thing about them is that they’re so _different_. They balance each other out. Niall is blond, blue eyed and happy, like, all of the time. Harry hardly ever sees him without his signature bright smile and his personality can’t be described as anything but bubbly. Niall likes to do all kinds of things. He’s in three different clubs on their campus on top of his duties in his fraternity. (That’s another thing that blows Harry’s mind. He will never understand why someone like Zayn would date a _frat_ boy.) He can talk about anything with anyone. He’s got what seems like infinite knowledge on most things and he’s guaranteed to be knowledgeable on your favorite topics whether you’re a young girl with a princess themed room or an old man with a fishing business. It’s incredible.

Zayn is so opposite. He has dark hair, eyes and style. He’s only open with people he’s close to, and he’s not close to many. Zayn is very family oriented. He’s got a soft spot for all of his younger sisters, but none as soft as the one he has for his youngest one. He calls his mum almost everyday because he misses home like crazy. Zayn likes to sleep literally all day (Harry has to suppress the urge to show his surprise every time he sees Zayn out when the sun is up. He reckons Niall is the reason). He acts like a badass that couldn’t give a fuck about anything but Zayn has the biggest heart Harry thinks he’s ever witnessed in a person. 

And Zayn _loves_ Niall. Like, Harry could only dream of a love so strong. Zayn could be in the shittiest mood and the smallest mention of his boyfriend has him lighting up like the fucking sun. Whenever Niall says he loves Zayn, (usually offhand comments like, “Can you pass the salt Zee I love you.”) the look on Zayn’s face is absolutely disgusting. His eyes fucking sparkle. It’s horrible. Harry hates it. (He’s lying, he is so jealous of what they have it’s ridiculous.) The worst (best) part is that Zayn’s been like this with Niall since day one, _three years ago._

Harry once feared Niall didn’t feel the same way, but that was only because he was comparing the way Niall acted to what he’d observed about Zayn. He found they definitely do love each other equally; Niall just worships Zayn in a different way. Everything Zayn likes Niall likes, and it’s the same with things Zayn doesn’t like. It can be pretty annoying, especially since Harry has known Niall since he was sixteen and he knows for _sure_ that Niall likes sushi but _apparently_ every time they got sushi together in the past Niall was lying and he actually hates it. (Harry is absolutely positive it’s because Zayn doesn’t like when animals are killed. Either way Harry is still pissed about it because sushi is his favorite food and ever since the bloody yin yang twins started dating, Harry has had to eat it alone.)

“—I know. I wasn’t aware ‘disrupting students studying’ was against the law. Do you reckon it’s a campus law?” Niall asks as he unlocks the door to his and Zayn’s room. Harry hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings and as he looks around he notices that they are indeed at Niall and Zayn’s dorm. (He’s glad. His dorm is a mess. Him and his roommate, Liam, haven’t done laundry in ages. It _reeks_ in there.) 

The trio step inside and the room is spotless, as per usual. Niall is a stickler for cleanliness and Zayn doesn’t like clutter either. The walls are a plain white but the floor is a dark wood, the furniture matching the floors giving the room a warm, homey feeling. On the wall directly across from the door are two large windows with window units in each. The salt and pepper couple dart to the left, plopping down on the bed they made with the two twins that were originally on opposite sides of the room. Harry takes up residence at the desk on the other side of the room, or as Niall proudly calls it “the study corner”. Really it’s just the two desks that each dorm comes with pushed together, one against the far wall half underneath a window unit, the other on the right wall so that it makes an ‘L’. As he starts taking his homework out of his bag, Niall and Zayn get cozied up together, sneaking kisses when they don’t think Harry can see.

He still has no idea how their RA hasn’t guessed what was going on between the couple. He can’t imagine they keep their hands off of each other at night and he knows from experience Niall is loud. (He will never invite them to spend the night at his mum’s ever again. The walls are too thin and they are absolute animals. Harry couldn’t even look at them in the morning. God neither could his _mum_. They have no shame.) 

“Dunno. Does the campus have laws? I feel like just regular laws apply.” Zayn replies. Harry can tell he’s not actually interested in this conversation but he will indulge absolutely anything Niall says. 

Niall shrugs. “Whatever. Nothin’ would’ve happened if Harry would just cut his hair.” At that Zayn chuckles, a soft sound he only ever makes when he’s really pleased with Niall. Ah, so that’s why he had to endure a bombardment of little trash balls. Zayn doesn’t like that Harry’s been growing his hair out and has openly commented on it on several occasions. So of course Niall would take it upon himself to change Harry’s mind. He rolls his eyes.

“Seriously mate,” comes Zayn’s slurred voice, accent gone thick with sleepiness. “I know a great place where you can get it done.” Niall nods along enthusiastically. Sickening. (Cute.)

Harry scoffs. “Yeah? It’s where you go and get things done to your hair then, right? Tell me, how many new staff did they have to hire after you bit the hands clean off any employee that got too close to your precious quiff?” Zayn won’t let anyone touch his hair. He’s been cutting and styling his own hair since he was fourteen.

Now it’s Zayn’s turn to roll his eyes. “It’s not like that, Haz. A friend of mine goes and she swears by it. And girls are more uptight about their hair than I am.”

Harry gives him a blank look. “Me and Niall are your only friends.” Harry doesn’t even have a moment to laugh before a pillow is flung directly at his face courtesy of one Niall Horan. Harry sighs. He remembers when his best friend used to defend him. Seems like so long ago now.

“I have other friends. Don’t be a dick, Harry.” Zayn sits up against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. “Pez says it’s great and I believe her. Plus she says they know how to cut curly hair. Just give it a chance, yeah?” Harry bites his lip to stop a smirk. So Zayn’s resorted to pleading. Interesting.

“I don’t see why you’re even that invested in my appearance. What’s it matter to you how I look? Shouldn’t you be happy I’m not pretty so I don’t steal your darling boyfriend from you?” Harry says with an exaggerated eye flutter.

Niall snorts, shaking his head. “Harry, even at your best you don’t look better than Zayn.” Zayn’s cheeks bloom a light red and Harry can feel his eye twitch. 

Harry tosses his hands in the air in frustration. “So what’s it matter?” He yells. The couple shushes him. Niall runs over and checks the peephole to make sure the RA doesn’t come checking in about noise complaints.

“It just bothers me, Harry. You’re starting to look like a caveman. It doesn’t look good, mate. You’re always moaning about not having anyone whenever you’re ‘round me ‘n Niall. I know you hate being the third wheel all of the time.” Zayn says, concern ringing in his voice.

Zayn’s right. Harry has friends other than Niall of course, friends who are also single, but he doesn’t like them as much. He’s known Niall longer, and they have more fun together and they share a lot of the same interests. But Niall is buy one get one free, and sometimes the heart eyes, and the smiling, and the little kisses, and the subtle touches and just all the couple-yness _gets_ to him and it’s those times he gets a little vulnerable. So he whinges to Niall and Zayn about how he wishes he had someone too. (Now he wishes he hadn’t said anything.)

Harry hasn’t had a relationship for about a year now. And he’s not one of those people who need someone all the time, the people who can’t live without a partner. But he still gets lonely. He hasn’t even hooked up with anyone since New Years and he thinks that’s really sad when he realizes that was three months ago. 

“So you think a haircut is going to pull for me?” Harry asks, spinning the rolly chair he’s sitting in around to face Zayn head on. He feels sort of incredulous about this entire conversation. Harry wouldn’t say he’s big into fashion, certainly not like Zayn is, but he does like to look good. He’s had his hair short for years so he decided he’d try something new. 

And it’s not like he’s going to grow it down his back or anything. Right now his hair is _just_ touching his shoulders. Usually he’ll push it back with a headscarf, but recently he’s been tying as much of it up as he can, too hot to deal with the heavy cloth around his head or have thick curls sticking to his neck making it all sweaty. He has to walk to his classes in the springtime sun and he doesn’t much fancy looking like a wet dog all day.

Niall saunters back over and cuddles up next to his boyfriend again and Zayn presses a kiss to his forehead before turning back to Harry. “All I’m saying is just go in and like just get a little bit off.” Niall chirps an unnecessary ‘yeah’ before tucking his face into Zayn’s tan neck, peppering the skin in kisses.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he looks down, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, fiddling with his rings. He reckons it couldn’t hurt at this point. Who knows? Maybe it would help. Statistically he hasn’t gotten booty since his hair has started to get really shaggy. Either way it’d end well for him because even if he doesn’t find someone, he would get Zayn off his back. (He knows he hasn’t been with anyone because he’s been busy. It’s already April, exams are coming up and the days are going by faster than ever and the work is piling up. Sometimes he feels too stressed to sleep, but Zayn wouldn’t consider that, the tosser.)

He rolls his head back so that he’s staring at the ceiling and lets out a long dramatic sigh just to be a twat. “Fine.” He grumbles, looking over to Zayn who whoops loudly and high-fives Niall.

Zayn reaches over the blond and opens the first drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a note card and a pen. He scribbles something on it and passes it to Harry with a pleased smile. “Pez said they take walk-ins so you can go any time you’re free.”

Harry takes the note card and reads it over. It’s an address and at the top in Zayn’s messy scrawl is _Lou’s Hair and Nails_. He has half a mind to rip it to shreds, but instead he folds the card and stuffs it into his back pocket, returning to the papers spread out on the desk. “I’ll go tomorrow before we get lunch, okay?” Harry mumbles around the knuckle of his index finger he’s chewing on. Zayn answers in the affirmative, turning his attention back to Niall. Harry just hopes this isn’t going to cost him too much.

❀

The bell above the employee break room door echoes down the length of the salon. Louis squeaks and clicks the lock in place, putting his finger over Eleanor’s lips to try and get her to stop giggling. He picks up the tray of fruit that he was actually in charge of setting up in the center of the salon for the stylists to snack on throughout the day and starts stuffing diced mango into his mouth.

“Honestly Louis, you do this everyday. Louise knows it’s you and she has a key to this door. You can’t hide from her.” Eleanor tsks, shaking her head when all Louis does is shrug and move on to the strawberries. “If you get fired I’m coming after you for leaving me alone in this place.” She flips her long brunette hair over her shoulders and leans on her right foot, inspecting her freshly manicured nails for dirt.

Louis rolls his eyes and swallows, unscrewing the cap of the water bottle he nicked from the employee fridge (probably Lou’s) and taking a swig. Louis wouldn’t say he’s a forgetful person but he does forget to eat breakfast a lot when he really shouldn’t. He works from 9 to 5 at _Lou’s Hair and Nails_ every Monday through Friday and lunch breaks aren’t until 1pm. He gets hungry, but it’s not really his fault. After dragging himself out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning he needs time to spend on his make-up, lining his eyes in black, winged perfection and coloring his eyebrows until they are on point. Make-up is still a difficult task even with years of practice and a beauty school degree under his belt.

Just when Louis is about to slip the last piece of kiwi in his mouth, a loud thump sounds on the door from the outside and he looks over at Eleanor, panic spiking in his chest. El just laughs (that hoe). She smoothes down the front of her olive green button down and dusts imaginary lint off her black jeggings before unlocking the door and strutting out to return to her manicurist duties. Louis only has time to hate her for two seconds before Louise is stepping into the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and an unimpressed look on her face. He quickly flings the kiwi piece behind him and it makes a wet sound when it hits the wall.

“You’re the reason I installed a bell here, you know that, right?” She cranes her neck and peaks over his shoulder to get a look at the fruit dish he’s hidden behind his back. He throws his arm out in protest when Lou crowds into his space, trying to grab the plate.

He catches her hand right before she would have grabbed it. “Really, Lou. You have no faith! Hurts me fragile heart.” Lou just rolls her eyes and dives for the plate again and she’s too fast; Louis has no time to stop her from taking it from him. He winces. She’s got a face like a slapped arse and he knows he’s in for a bit of a chewing-out. 

She looks up at him with eyes and mouth wide open. “Louis! I can’t believe you ate all of it! Look, and you’ve just left the blueberries. You _know_ I hate them. Ugh, the least you could have done is leave me some mango!” She plucks the biggest blueberry from the plate and flings it at Louis’ face. It dings him right on the tip of his nose.

He scrunches his face and throws his hands up in front of him to protect the goods from any more attacks. “I’m sorry LouLou! I just get so hungry and then you put me in charge of all the food. I can’t help myself!” He rushes out, peaking through his fingers to judge Lou’s expression.

The tattooed woman sighs, placing the fruit on the table they use for prepping cheese and crackers and fruit. She opens the mini fridge and opens up the only bag left inside which contains green grapes and dumps all of them on the tray, huffing at what an awful presentation it makes. She spins around to face him and he puts his best puppy pout on, willing his eyes to fill with unshed tears to enhance the effect. She lifts a finger and waggles it at him. “Oh no, that’s not gonna work with me, Louis. I’m taking the money for those mangoes out of your paycheck.” She whips her hair hard enough that it slaps him on the cheek on her way out, walking over to the table in the middle of the salon and setting the tray down.

Louis is about to complain _but I’m so hungry and what business makes their staff wait until one to eat_ when the front door of the salon opens, the chimes hanging on the door clanking against the glass as it swings shut behind their visitor.

Words die in his throat. Standing unsure at the front of the room is the hottest man Louis has ever laid eyes on. He’s dressed in a light grey tee with black, thin, block letters that spells ‘USATF’, black skinny jeans, and dark brown boots. He’s tall and all long limbs and, fuck, his arms are protruding with muscles and dotted with intricate black tattoos. Louis feels his mouth water, especially when he eyes the bulge at the front of the man’s jeans. He trails his eyes up to the man’s face and regrets it instantly. He has beautiful puffy lips, big eyes and tan skin. The man’s chestnut fringe is flopped down sweaty in his face and curling at the ends. Louis’ always had a thing for curls.

He catches Lou’s eyes where she stands behind the front counter and she smirks mischievously at him, mouthing ‘all yours, babe.’ He shakes his head quickly, about to retreat back into the safety of the staff room when Lou is leading the man to a chair at Louis’ favorite station and he catches her say, “Louis will be right with you.” Louis curses her gorgeous, lavender haired self and begrudgingly makes his way over to the man tapping away on his cell phone after Lou gives him a meaningful look. El covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh.

He tries to calm his racing heart and sweaty palms when he comes to a stop behind the man’s chair. _It’s just hair you’re good at cutting hair stop being such a baby_. But the man smells absolutely incredible, the sweaty musk mixing with some rich, heady cologne and Louis catches himself leaning in too close to get a whiff, snapping back upright and clearing his throat to get the man’s attention. “Hello, I’m Louis and I will be your lovely, talented stylist today.” 

⋆

After his International Studies class Harry heads over to the hair salon. It’s half 11 and he figures an hour is enough time to get this over with and still meet Niall and Zayn for lunch at half 12. Following the instructions he’d typed into his phone’s GPS, he finds _Lou’s Hair and Nails_ tucked in between a quaint bookstore and a boutique about four blocks from campus. He’d decided to wear his hair down again today since he has to get it washed anyway. He brushes his sweaty, overgrown fringe away from his eyes and steps into the salon.

He is instantly hit with a strong vanilla scent and there’s a nu-disco track playing overhead. He bites his lip and looks around. The entire salon is crème themed, walls, floor and ceiling all a dull white. On his right the wall is lined with a row of five styling stations, each equipped with long, white mirrors with delicate details and Victorian looking vanities. Modern white chairs are neatly pushed in at each one and bright, white lanterns hang above on both sides of the room. Immediately to his left is the front counter, also white, with a large black vase sat in the corner with white lilies inside. After the counter on the left wall is two manicure stations and at the back is a single hair-washing chair and sink. In the middle a large, circular chandelier hangs and below that is a table with champagne and two trays; one with grapes and blue berries and the other with cheese and crackers. Overall the place looks very regal and more importantly, very expensive.

He notices a woman walking up to him. “Hello, welcome to _Lou’s Hair and Nails_. What did you need today, sir?” She smiles politely, hands clasping together in front of her rose patterned sundress.

He rubs at his bottom lip with his thumb. “Um, just a trim I think.” She nods and motions towards the third styling station from the door. She tells him someone named Louis would be right over and walks off, leaving him to his own devices. He digs his phone out of his back pocket and opens a new text to Zayn.

From: Harry  
To: Zayn

_this place looks pricey. if im about to pay a bunch for a fuckin trim im gonna razor ur hair in ur sleep xx_

From: Zayn  
To: Harry

_rlx mte pez nvr pays more than 50 :) x_

From: Harry  
To: Zayn

_Say goodbye to ur hair babe x_

He’s just read Zayn’s response _nooo :( :(_ when a throat clears behind him. “Hello, I’m Louis and I will be your lovely, talented stylist today.” He looks up into the mirror in front of him and feels his eyes widen in disbelief.

The voice that just spoke was clearly male, the tone too low pitched and raspy to be a female, and the name Louis is generally for boys. Yet he was definitely looking at a woman standing behind him. He (she?) had golden brown hair in a side-swept crop with thick winged eyeliner accentuating blue eyes and glossy, pink lips. They were wearing a flattering, solid black peplum over tight white jeans with two stylish zippers on the waist on each side. Around their neck was a thick gold necklace with spikes that spread across their deliciously tan collarbones. He glanced down and noticed they were also wearing dark blue high-heel pumps that expose a lovely crown tattoo on the middle of their left foot. Whatever the gender, Louis is drop dead gorgeous.

“So, what would you like to do with all this?” The stylist asks, running slight fingers through his thick curls. They lock eyes in the mirror and Louis cocks a plucked brow. Harry coughs into his fist. He’s starting to hate Zayn a little less.

He fiddles with his rings. “Um, I just want a bit off the ends, and like, maybe make it a bit lighter?” He’s not sure if that even makes sense but this beautiful (man? woman?) has got him a little distracted and feeling kind of unworthy but mostly like he’d really like to have them in his bed. 

Louis nods and tells him to go get comfortable in the chair by the sink. Harry leans back in the comfy black chair, resting his clasped hands in his lap and focusing on a spot on the ceiling. Louis’ heels clack across the marble floor, a bottle clutched in each hand. The stylist runs the tap behind Harry’s head until deemed the right temperature and then Louis gathers all of Harry’s hair into the sink, wetting it thoroughly. A faint popping of a cap is heard and then long nails are scratching against his scalp and Harry moans out in pleasure. He loves having his hair played with and this is _heaven_.

Louis works in silence and before he knows it, the beautician is wrapping a small towel around his wet hair and instructing him to sit up. “Louis?” The stylist gives him a small smile and asks him to go back to the styling station.

Harry nips at the skin of his knuckles and looks around. There’s only three people in the salon besides himself: the woman who greeted him at the door sitting behind the counter, a bored looking girl filing her nails at a manicure station and Louis. He thinks that’s well enough, he really wants to ask Louis a personal question that he’d rather not have an audience for.

The stylist comes over and unwraps the towel from Harry’s head, rubbing it over the damp curls a couple more times to get as much water off as possible. Louis drops it on the floor and then walks over to the outlet to the right of the table and plugs in a hair dryer and sets it down on the vanity, opening a drawer and digging around.

“Um, Louis?” Louis hums. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, and you can totally disregard this, seriously. It’s actually quite invasive—“ His rambling is cut off by the beautician’s tinkling laughter. Louis straightens and meets Harry’s eyes in the mirror, cocking a hip and placing a hand there, right hand waving a circle brush in the air.

“Please, love. Do share.” Louis says, leaning around Harry to pick up the blow dryer. Louis smells like cherry blossoms and coconut. Harry clears his throat and figures he might as well.

“Well, I was just wondering. Um, do you identify as a boy or a girl?” Harry bites his lips into his mouth, hoping he didn’t just offend the elegant hairstylist.

His fears are put to rest when Louis’ lips spread into a dazzling smile. “It’s actually quite respectful of you to ask. Most people just assume.” Louis transfers the blow dryer to the hand holding the brush to have a free hand to drag through Harry’s tangled hair. “I identify as male. Still use the men’s room and all. Give ‘em a right scare when I whip it out.” Louis blushes a pretty pink and Harry’s having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

“Well you are easily the most extraordinary man I have ever met. I also identify as male and I couldn’t walk one block in those things.” He gestures to the six-inch pumps on Louis’ feet. Louis giggles (fucking _giggles_ ), face flushing a darker shade. Harry licks his lips and grips his chair tighter.

Louis pinches a strand of Harry’s hair between his pointer and thumb, yanking a little. Harry accidentally bites his tongue. “Thank you.” The stylist says, low like he’s telling a secret. For a fleeting second Harry wants to comment on it, because _please please tell me this boy gets compliments regularly_. He can’t stand the thought of the most alluring human being he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting never being able to accept a compliment because he’s lacking them. Please, no.

But then Louis turns on the blow dryer, beginning to tame his wild hair and anything Harry might have said is lost to the sound.

❀

Louis only clips the unhealthy bits of Harry’s hair, which ended up being about a half inch. (He’d asked Harry for his name to fill in some of the silence while he worked. He’s actually quite proud of how smoothly he’d slipped in the question.) Louis runs his fingers through the freshly trimmed curls, fluffing them out from all the drags of a comb and parting it exactly as Harry had it when he walked in.

When Louis is pleased with his work, he steps back and wraps a hand around his elbow, waiting for Harry to inspect. Harry leans over and shakes his head a few times before leaning back and brushing his fringe to the side. He smiles at Louis in the mirror. “Feels much better. Thank you.”

Louis beams. As much as he complains, he really loves his job and any time he has a satisfied customer is enough of an ego boost to last him a solid month or two. (Especially when it’s a compliment from the hottest guy he’s ever met.)

“Wonderful, glad to have been of service. You can pay at the front desk, love.” Louis fakes a smile. He’s sad to see Harry go. He was quite enjoying looking at him.

Harry nods and makes his way over to Lou. Louis sighs, grabbing a broom to start sweeping up the scattered hair on the ground. He looks up when he feels eyes on him and sees Lou and Harry both staring, childish grins on their faces. Louis feels self-conscious for a minute but then Harry’s winking at him before backing out of the salon. Louis drops the broom and covers his face to stop himself from doing something embarrassing like scream. Or faint.

Inked fingers pull at his hands and he opens his eyes to Lou standing really close with a giddy expression. “So, he’s cute,” She says, lips twitching with a hint of a smile.

Louis groans and slaps his hands to his face and drags them down, pulling at the skin so the bottom of his eyes dip low and then slides them up into his hair, grasping desperately. “Cute?! Lou! He’s so fucking fit. God _must_ be real because there’s no way he just happened to wander in here for a bloody _touch up_.” He exclaims, pushing his palms into his cheeks to make his lips go pouty like a fish.

Lou laughs lightly. “Ah, the fate game?” She asks as Louis sinks down into the chair Harry previously occupied. Louis looks up her and nods, face pinched as if she should find it obvious. “I’m not so sure,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes at Louis’ murderous expression. “Maybe you should find out for me.” She hands him a note card with a few bills underneath. Quickly pocketing the tip, he reads the card. It’s the name of the salon with the address directly below that. He furrows his brows and flips it over. On the back, _Call me gorgeous xx_ is written in neat, loopy handwriting with a phone number.

He can’t help the scream he lets out at that. Or when he fainted right after.

⋆

To say Zayn was disappointed would be an understatement. “It barely looks changed!” He groans, looking dejectedly into his half eaten Panini. Niall pats his boyfriend’s thigh and rolls his eyes, flashing Harry a grin. The cafeteria is always packed around this time; Harry has to lean halfway across the table to hear over the uproar of voices around them.

“I think it looks good.” Niall compliments. Harry pinches his arm to distract him from grinning like a loony. Niall is taking his side for once. “Yer curls look tighter.”

“Thank you, Niall.” Harry can barely fight his smile.

Niall gets Zayn to look a little less moody by talking about the formal Niall’s little, Ashton, is attending. Apparently he’s going with a girl in Zeta Niall set him up with. Harry’s impressed. Niall doesn’t really _do_ girls. He dates boys and likes to do boy things like play footie and go to pubs to watch a game of rugby with the lads and have a couple of pints. The only woman he’s ever seen Niall willingly seek out is his mum. Harry wishes he could have witnessed Niall strike up a conversation with a sorority girl with the intention of getting her a date. Knowing Niall, it was probably nothing short of amazing.

“How was it, anyway?” Niall asks, turning back to Harry. “Zee said you were gonna chop his hair off.” Zayn pouts at that and pokes at his food, muttering something about Harry being _like Mr. Krabs, swear_. Niall just pecks his cheek.

Harry bites down a smirk. “Wasn’t that bad, actually. Nice place. Um, talented people.” Zayn looks up at him curiously. Niall’s face breaks into the biggest shit-eating grin. Harry curses himself for being so obvious.

“Oh yeah?” Niall inquires. He pushes his empty plate aside and folds his arms over the table, leaning in. “Who’d ya meet?”

Harry bites at the skin of his thumb to hide his mouth, which is betraying his nonchalance. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Zayn catches on and his expression mirrors Niall’s. They are so creepy (endearing) sometimes.

“Harry, you chatted someone up at the hair salon?” Zayn asks, amused. He really hates Niall. Now he’s going to suffer endless torment for this.

“Well, he was the one working.” Harry picks up a sugar packet and rips it open, pouring its contents on the table.

“You hit on someone _working_?” Zayn looks a little put out, but Niall looks like he’s buzzing in his seat.

“He?” The Irishman asks, smiling so wide Harry thinks his face might split. Harry shrugs, pushing the sugar around until he makes a small heart. “C’mon Haz, if this guy’s got yer attention I wanna know about ‘im.”

Harry sighs and bites his lip. How do you explain Louis? Harry is still having trouble believing the beautician is a real person. Looking back at his tiny waist and wide hips, round bum and thick thighs, delicate hands and strong demeanor, Harry can’t pick any description for him other than ethereal. He radiated something like royalty and Harry waits anxiously for him to (hopefully) call.

“He’s—“ Shit, where does he even begin? Better yet, what can he say that will do Louis justice without landing himself a year’s worth of teasing? “Um, well I think he’s a drag queen.” He grimaces. Nailed it.

Zayn guffaws. “That’s rich. At any rate, I want a written apology and a free meal for threatening me when I assisted in finding you someone.” Niall is beat red from laughing. Harry looks away and clenches his hands into fists. He contemplates smacking them both upside the head but thinks that would probably cause Zayn to ignore him for a month and Niall would give him the cold shoulder for the rest of eternity. Fuck both of them.

(Louis calls that night when Harry was just about to take a shower. They talked until the early hours and Harry fell asleep to his soft voice relaying his day into his ear. He ended up sleeping through his alarm, missing his two morning classes and when he sits at the usual table in the caf, hair dripping wet and shirt inside out, Niall and Zayn share a knowing look. Harry just pouts.)

❀

Harry ends up coming back every day that week and Louis is over the moon. It’s not like he’s desperate for attention or anything. He gets laid pretty regularly but it has been a while since someone has pursued him like this. And Harry is certainly pursuing him. 

He comes in at the same time, asks only for Louis, gets the same small trim, and tips _very_ generously. It’s ridiculous really, how much Harry pays him when he knows Harry attends the university down the street. Louis never had any money when he was in school. Harry doesn’t even have a job.

Harry uses the time to make them get to know each other, always has something to tell him. He’s learned a ton of things about Harry’s life. He learned Harry loves finding quaint places that aren’t well known so that he can be alone for a while. Learned Harry has a lot of nervous habits, most of which involve biting his lips and fingers. (It makes Louis wonder if he’s sane for finding it so attractive.) About his sister who attends the same school as him, about to graduate this year, and his crazy friends Niall and Zayn. (Louis picked up major jealousy vibes in his tone of voice when he talked about them. It threw Louis at first until Harry randomly confessed it was the relationship he was jealous of, not the boys themselves. He had to dig his nails into his hand to keep himself from showing how pleased he was. Harry is looking for a serious relationship and he’s been coming here to flirt with him. Louis definitely wants a relationship with Harry.)

Harry tries to get him to talk as well, but Louis isn’t as forthcoming. Half of it has to do with the women that come into this salon who occupy the seats to his left and right, trying to talk about themselves to Lou or Danielle and can’t hear their own conceited voices over him and Harry. The other half is that he hasn’t ever been an open person. Harry has no shame, sharing things that should probably require a stronger friendship and a quieter setting, but. That’s none of his business. He enjoys Harry’s ramblings nevertheless, and always prompts him to continue. He takes the glares from the rich bitches in stride. 

So it was no surprise when yesterday he hesitated after Louis was done with his hair. When Louis asked him what was wrong, he just shook his head, smiled brightly and said, “Nothing. I was just going to see if you’d go on a date with me tomorrow.” 

Louis’ chest had inflated with giddiness and he ran his fingers through his hair quickly to cover his stupid grin. “Yeah that sounds lovely. Where would we be going?”

Harry answered with a simple, “To a café.” It really didn’t answer his question since there had to be at least twenty of them in the area but Louis agreed anyway and they smiled goofily at each other for a few minutes before Harry finally left. Louis had been in an infatuated daze for the rest of the day.

Right now he’s perched on the edge of his claw-foot tub in just his knickers, balancing his phone between shoulder and ear as he shaves his legs, his pet Pomsky, Milo, napping on the bathmat. They had decided on noon to meet up for lunch at a place called _Majestic Casual_. (Louis had rolled his eyes when he read it in the text. Harry _would_ find the weirdest café.) He’s trying to persuade El into coming over to do his hair but _no_. She’s too busy for her best friend, apparently.

“Look gumdrop, if it wasn’t my mother we were talking about here I’d be over in a second. You know that.” Louis sighs, switching to his other leg. She’s right, of course. Eleanor doesn’t see her mum very often, living about 3 hours away from her. Whenever she makes the ride down, El will spend the entire weekend with her to catch up. He doesn’t want to be selfish, but he really wishes she hadn’t come this weekend. He wants help from his best friend right now.

“Well, at least tell me what I should wear. I was thinking of that black dress, the one I wore at Stan’s New Year’s Eve party.” He frowns when he nicks his Achilles’ heel. It instantly starts to bleed. Great, now he’ll have to put on a band-aid and all he has are the stupid Hello Kitty ones El got him as a joke when he asked her to pick some up for him. How _embarrassing_. 

“Um, don’t over due it love. That dress is a bit too sexy for a little lunch date. Might want to stick with the sundresses for this one.” 

Louis groans. “But I want to be sexy. He’s going to be.” He blows at his fringe and flicks it to the side as El laughs down the line. He finishes up with his razor and turn on the tub, rinsing the suds off and grabbing a towel to dry off.

El’s laugh comes to a stop and she snorts, “You’re ridiculous, why do I deal with you? Wear the red one I got you for your birthday, like a billion years ago that you’ve _never worn_ , you bitch.” Now it’s his turn to laugh.

“I’m sorry! I’ve just never had anywhere to wear it…” He trails off, wandering into his room and opening his closet door. Milo comes bounding in cutely, never really fond of being left alone, and jumps up onto his queen-sized bed.

El sighs exasperatedly into the phone and Louis can almost hear her eyes roll. “Well now you do. I’ve got to go gummy bear; I hope your date goes well! Love you.” 

“Love you too. Tell your mum I said hello.” She rushes out a ‘Will do,’ and hangs up. He tosses his phone on the bed and sifts through his clothes. He finds it hidden in between his winter coats, still in the plastic wrapping from the store Eleanor bought it from. He plucks it from the hanger and rips the plastic off, fingering the lace material. It really is a nice dress. It’s a bright red, and the lace pattern is in the shape of roses all the way up to the neck. The sleeves are short, so he’s glad he shaved his pits.

He slips it on and zips up, admiring how it fits in his full-length mirror hanging on the door. It hugs his waist just right, making him look slim and feminine, even with his flat chest. He smiles at his reflection, confidant he looks amazing. He decides to just wear his hair as he normally does; straightening it with a flat iron so there are no kinks. He finishes with a light touch of hair spray before moving on to his makeup.

He’s just clipping in some plastic rose stud earrings when his phone chimes, Milo yapping in surprise. Shit. He had set an alarm to go off at half eleven so that he didn’t lose track of time and be super late for his date (which he has a habit of doing). “I’ve got to go, Milo. Love you, bye.” He slips on some gold bangles and grabs his nude colored peep toe heels, running into the living room and snatching up his keys and heading out the door. He rushes to his white mini cooper parked on the curb and jumps in, starting it and speeding off.

He types the café into his GPS at a red light and it tells him it’s a fifteen-minute drive. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and sings along to the radio to distract himself from getting nervous. He hasn’t dated in a while and the fact that he’s going to be rusty on a date with _Harry_ has his heart beating a little fast. He really doesn’t want to mess this up because he really _really_ likes the uni student.

He pulls into the car park outside the café and checks his reflection in his rearview mirror, smoothing his hair out. He hops out and sets his heels on the ground, using his car to balance as he squeezes into them. Passing his hands down the front of his dress, he takes a steadying breath. _Be cool_. He tilts his head up at the sky and shuts his eyes, saying a quick prayer before deciding he’s taken long enough and pushes through the door.

 _Majestic Casual_ is a decent sized place, but there is hardly anyone inside. He sees a cluster of teens tucked into the couch area, spilling over work spread out on the table and an elderly couple waiting in line. He looks over to the left and spots Harry with his arms on the table in front of him, phone in hand. He smiles despite himself. Harry is in black, skintight jeans and white tank, showing off more tattoos Louis hadn’t seen before. He’s got a dark blue beanie pulled over his curls and brown, roughed up boots on his feet. He looks _so_ good. Louis would really love to march right over and sit on his lap but knows it’s a little too early for that. _Soon_ he hopes. 

Instead he slips into the seat across from Harry, linking his fingers on the table and waiting for him to look up. When the taller man turns his attention on him, Louis has to fight back a smirk. Harry’s got a wild look in his eyes and from what Louis can see, he doesn’t seem to be breathing.

“I- wow. You’re stunning.” Harry stutters out, coughing into his fist and scooting forward in his chair. “Are you, um. What would you like to eat?”

Louis smiles despite himself. He’s never seen Harry so bashful. The uni student has been dumb jokes and silly stories, all smiles and confidence up until now. He quite likes being the cause of the sudden change. “Hmm. I don’t know. What are you getting?”

“Um, I was just gonna get a sandwich.” Harry starts biting at the skin of his thumb and Louis forces himself to look away, picking up the dessert menu.

“Do they have Quiche?” Harry nods. “Okay, well I’ll have that.” Harry nods again and stumbles out of his chair, sauntering up to the counter to place their orders. Louis grins down at his hands, fingers messing with his bangles. He’s definitely going to enjoy himself.

⋆

It continues like that all the way until May. Harry brings Louis on dates to his absolute favorite shops and restaurants. (The beautician gives him a fondly annoyed glance as the names get more and more ludicrous.) Of course, he keeps finding time to go to the salon to see Louis while he works, but decides against any more haircuts. His hair is pretty short and easily quiffible. Zayn is quite happy with it. 

Things are going great, but Harry is getting fidgety. It’s somewhat to do with his exams, sure. Louis banned him from the premises of _Lou’s Hair and Nails_ until he’s finished with his last final this Thursday. And Harry is fine with it _honestly_ , but he’s antsy to see Louis again. They’ve been dating for over a month and haven’t gotten past some heavy petting.

He doesn’t want to rush anything because Louis is special to him and he doesn’t want to pressure him. But like, Louis is just so irresistible. He looks good and he smells good and he tastes good and he feels good and Harry just really wants to fuck him. Has since he walked into the over priced salon that first day.

He’s just not sure if Louis wants that yet. Because every time Harry has him pinned down into the pink sheets of Louis’ big bed, the smaller boy ends up wiggling out from under him and pushing Harry onto his back, digging the palm of his tiny hand into his hard dick ‘til he comes. He won’t even let Harry return the favor.

It is so _exasperating_. He really wants to push into Louis and make him come over and over from just his cock. Wants to bite dark bruises into his skin in a chain across his neck to replace his necklaces. Wants to press finger shaped bruises into his waist and fucking _ruin_ him. Watch his perfectly etched makeup smudge from sweat and tears. 

It kind of scares him, how much he wants to wreck the older boy. He’s so sweet and fragile but maybe that’s why Harry is suffering from such extreme sexual frustration. 

Another thing that has been worrying him is the end of the year. He has 24 hours after his last final to move out of his dorm and back to his hometown. Harry misses his mum and all of his friends back home, but. Home is a good 2-hour drive from here. He’ll be going from a quick 10-minute walk from campus to _that_. He doesn’t want to stop seeing Louis. At the rate they’re going, he can see himself falling in love with the stylist and he doesn’t want to give it up.

He doesn’t think sex is going to fix any of that, of course not. The semester is coming to a close and summer break is on the horizon. Time is ticking away and it’s not something he can get back, he knows that. But it sure is adding to his desperation. Anyone who shows interest in him from now on will pale in comparison to Louis. He’s addicted to his voice, his laugh, and his smile, all of it. Feels right at home standing in the beautician’s miniscule kitchen making egg on toast for them when he sleeps over.

He doesn’t mean to but he starts getting snippy with Louis, making up excuses to end calls early and replying to texts with clipped sentences, if he even replies at all. It isn’t Louis’ fault and he feels bad whenever he hears the disappointment in the stylist’s normally cheerful voice. It’s just hitting him so _hard_. He finds himself wishing for stupid things when he should be studying. Like, _wish I had met him sooner_ , or _wish I had gotten that apartment like Gem suggested_. It’s a waste of effort. It is too late and thinking about it so much is making him sour. 

When Thursday rolls around, he resolves to make the best of his last day here. Louis doesn’t deserve to be brushed off and Harry has been beating himself up over doing it in the first place. If they are as serious as Harry thinks they are trying to be, three months isn’t a long time apart and Harry can just drive up whenever the distance is particularly upsetting. He doesn’t want to end his junior year with probably the most beautiful person in the world thinking he’s a giant penis. 

So when he bubbles in the last answer in and hands in his test (aced it, Interior Design is seriously the easiest elective ever), he makes a beeline to the salon. When he enters the cool air-conditioned place, El is gluing fake nails onto Lou’s fingernails and Louis is sitting in his favorite chair staring at his phone, dressed in a long sleeved white button down and a black pencil skirt, ankles crossed daintily and light pink heels donning his small feet. Harry pulls a chair up in front of him and drops down heavily causing Louis to look up and smile softly.

“Hi.” The older boy says, looking so sweet and soft Harry’s struggling to remember why he came in here.

“Hey, babe. I- um. Well I wanted to apologize for being distant. I’ve just had a lot on my mind and it’s been driving me a little crazy.” He sets his elbows on the armrest and joins his fingers to keep himself from doing something rash.

Louis nods and looks down at his lap, picking at a hair stuck to the fabric. “I thought I did something wrong, or. I don’t know. Something.” Harry feels like literal shit. Straight up dog dodo on the pavement. He’s been so disgustingly selfish that he’s gone and made Louis blame himself. He has half a mind to get up and walk right out. Out of Louis’ life entirely. This amazing person, Louis he- He deserves someone who doesn’t have a one track mind. He feels like punching himself in the face but figures Louis would probably never talk to him again. He shakes his head at himself. _So_ selfish. _Mum raised me better_ …

“I’m sorry.” _Sorry for being such a prick. Sorry for being so needy. Sorry for only thinking about myself._

Louis shrugs and reaches up to toy with one of his pink dangly earrings. “It’s okay. How did finals go?” 

“Um, good. Yeah.” He winces. It feels so awkward and he only has himself to hold accountable. They were so _good_ what the _fuck_.

“How are Niall and Zayn?” Louis asks next, trying to salvage the conversation. Harry is starting to reconsider punching himself.

“They’re good. They asked about you, actually.” Louis quirks a brow at that, the shadow of a genuine smile twitching his thin lips.

“Did they? How sweet.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely. I actually didn’t know how to describe you when I first met you.” Louis has that spark back in his eyes, playful demeanor overtaking the sad one Harry wanted so much to erase.

“What did you tell them?” 

“Well I said, um, it’s just like. Okay, I’m still really uneducated on the majority of the LGBTQ community so don’t like hate me, please?” If Louis’ face was happy before, it is absolutely delighted now. He lets out a bark of laughter and nods, motioning for Harry to go on. “Okay, so when they wanted to know about you I didn’t know what to say so I said you were a drag queen.” His voice lilted up at the end too much so it was more of a question rather than a statement but Louis looks unconcerned, bending over in peels of laughter.

“Harry!” He screeches, wiping tears from under his eyes carefully to avoid smearing his mascara. “I am not a drag queen!”

Harry beams. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know how describe it.”

Louis sobers up but the grin doesn’t leave his face. “Oh my God, Harry. I can’t believe you.”

Harry shrugs. “It just seems like a bit of a sore topic for you, so I never wanted to ask.”

At that Louis’ smile does begin to fade. He reaches out and tugs one of Harry’s hands into his lap, tracing patterns into the skin. He focuses on that instead of meeting Harry’s gaze. “It’s not that. I’ve never really had to describe it to anyone. Haven’t even thought about it much myself. I favor stereotypically “girly” things because they give me confidence. I feel pretty and sure of myself. I never questioned why, it’s just who I am. If I had to put a word to it, I’d say I was a cross dresser. But even that doesn’t sit right with me. I wish it didn’t matter. I like things made for girls and I’m a boy so that makes me different than, well normal I guess. I will never understand, but I try to surround myself with people who are more open-minded about people like me. That way I can pretend it doesn’t matter.”

Well fuck. Harry never would have thought he might cry when he came to patch things up with Louis but his eyes are definitely stinging with the threat of tears. “Louis.” He breathes out. Louis looks smaller than ever, maybe. Shoulders drooped low and arms tucked inwards. His head is still ducked, eyes boring holes in the back of Harry’s hand. His fingers have stopped moving; instead they are clenched in tight fists on his thighs. Harry berates himself because all this does is make him want Louis _more_. Wants to fuck him until he’s too blissed out to worry about defining himself to anyone.

He truly can’t help himself from placing his hand on Louis’ face and tilting it up and leaning in. He kisses Louis roughly, fisting a hand in his short brown hair and slipping the other down to the small of his back, pulling him in until he gets what Harry wants and straddles his lap.

Louis makes appreciative sounds as Harry trails his hands up his back and down his sides then further, all the way down his thighs and then up up up under his tight skirt. Louis breaks away from the kiss, pants out, “Get up.”

Harry does what he’s told after Louis slides off his lap. He’s sort of embarrassed of the erection he’s sporting but a quick cursory glance around the salon shows him Lou and El are nowhere to be seen. Louis impatiently grabs at his hand, dragging him to a door in the back.

The door chimes when it opens, but Louis is unaffected, pushing Harry into it once it’s closed and locked. Harry moans as Louis really starts to go at it, gripping handfuls of his curls and pulling Harry down into him, grinding Harry into the door. Based on Louis’ raw need he’s expressing, Harry can already tell this is going father than they ever had before and he’s all for it, wants to get there already. He bends to fit his hands underneath Louis’ round bum to grip his thighs and lifts. Louis doesn’t let their lips detach, wrapping his smooth legs around Harry’s slim waist.

Harry sets Louis down on the small table in the room and pushes it until it slams against the wall and then he’s back at Louis, biting kisses into his lips and pushing at his skirt so that it bunches all the way up. Louis pushes at his chest and Harry panics for a minute because _no he doesn’t want to stop does he_? But then Louis’ giving him a sultry look, head leaned back against the wall and legs spread as wide as they can go with the restriction of the material of his skirt. Deft fingers pull his belt from the loops of his jeans, dropping it on the floor with a _clank_. He pulls the button loose and tugs the zipper down before leaning in for a kiss.

This fucking pretty boy is going to _kill_ him. Harry growls into the kiss, reaching down to bat Louis hands away and pulls his throbbing cock out. Louis smirks against his lips, snaking his arms around his neck. He slides a hand between Louis’ legs to palm at him and he groans. _Shit_. He’s wearing fucking lacey knickers. Harry really should have expected it, what with Louis’ whole thing but _fucking fuck me_. He’s never found panties more attractive than these ones incasing Louis’ cock.

The older boy licks a stripe up the side of his neck, stopping to nibble on his ear and he cannot take it. It feels too hot in here, skin feverish with all of his clothes still on and Louis right in front of him, ready to get fucked. He presses Louis farther into the wall and drags the panties down his legs and tucks them in his back pocket for now. 

Louis snatches one of Harry’s hands up, wrapping his hand around three fingers and bringing them up to his mouth, coating them in spit. Harry breathes out sharply. He can’t believe he’s about to fuck Louis in the employee room of a salon. With no lube or condoms. 

Harry pulls his hand away when he can’t bare Louis looking at him wickedly while fucking Harry’s fingers in and out of his mouth. He trails it down until he reaches his destination, rubbing them over Louis’ hole before pressing one in.

Louis moans, back arching towards Harry and shifts his hips forward, trying to get more inside himself. Harry pinches the skin of Louis’ neck in between his teeth, thrusting his finger in and out until Louis whines out for another. He scissors him until he can fit three before he curls his fingers, brushing over Louis’ sweet spot. Louis fucking _screams_ , bending forward to mouth wetly at the shirt covering Harry’s shoulder. He really hopes Lou and El aren’t anywhere close by because now that he knows Louis is a screamer, he doesn’t want to shut him up.

“I’m good Harry, please just fuck me.” Louis gasps, hot breath hitting the side of his neck. Harry nods, muttering a soft ‘yeah.’ His voice is so low he barely recognizes it but Louis’ is so breathy. What is he supposed to do with himself now that he knows the older boy is so responsive?

He licks his palm and tries to cover his dick with as much spit as he can. He hasn’t forgotten that he’s supposed to be distracting Louis. It’d be a bit of a failure if he were to hurt him.

Lining up, he wraps a hand around Louis’ neck to get him to look at him. He slots their lips together as he presses in, swallowing the smaller boy’s wail. He keeps going until he’s buried to the hilt, sweat trailing down his back with a shudder. Louis’ all warm and tight inside; he wishes they’d done this sooner so that Harry could have got a little more used to it because he wants to make this good for Louis. Wants to fuck him the way he needs but he’s not so sure he’s going to last.

Louis bites harshly at his jaw. “Move please, I need it.” Harry moans and drags his dick back out all the way until just the tip is in before slamming forward, building up a fast pace that has Louis falling to pieces in his arms. He’s got his pretty head thrown back, high pitched whines and moans echoing into the small break room, sweat beading on his forehead causing his styled hair to dampen.

Harry pulls Louis into him more, making Louis slip up the table sit on Harry’s dick better. He uses his grip on the petite boy’s wide hips to fuck up into him at a different angle, Louis’ moans turning into screams as he hits his prostate. Louis scrambles at his back, digging his sharp nails into his skin and Harry is fucking loving this. 

Louis’ got makeup tracks down his cheeks where his mascara has started to run, his mouth open letting out endless sounds of pleasure. He eyes are squeezed shut tight but the rest of his body is lax, letting Harry do as he pleases. Harry can feel the zinging electricity coil in his lower belly, knows he’s about to come. So he presses in deep, grinds right into Louis’ prostate and Louis screams his name, coming all over the bottom of his skirt and the front of Harry’s shirt.

Louis clenches in waves as his orgasm shocks through him and Harry feels like sparklers are going off in his veins when he comes. He latches on to the older boy’s neck to muffle his loud moan, pumping stream after stream of his seed into Louis until he’s all spent. They pant into each other’s hair, waiting for their racing hearts to calm down.

When Harry finally pulls out, Louis still looks too fucked out to even care about the come that’s dripping down his thighs and onto the table. He’s scooted himself back to better rest against the wall, a dazed off look in his eye and a lovely smile on his face. Harry tucks himself back in and strips his shirt off, wiping between Louis’ legs and between his cheeks. It had spunk on it anyway.

When Harry tosses it behind the little refrigerator, Louis wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him in for a quick peck. “What are you doing for the rest of your summer?”

“Hopefully you.” Harry chuckles, leaning his forehead against the stylist’s.

“Okay.” Louis smiles, eyes crinkling cutely.

Harry stares at him with wide eyes. “Yeah?”

Louis bites his lip, twirling the short curls at the nape of his neck between his fingers. “Yeah. Come stay with me.”

Harry laughs in relief. Here he was, thinking they’d have to resort to some shitty long distance thing when all he really had to do was just ask Louis to stay and he would have let him. Harry shakes his head, pressing kisses all over the older boy’s face until he’s laughing too, giggly and happy the way he's supposed to be.

And when him and Louis finally exit the break room, Louis with white stains on his black skirt, makeup messily wiped off and Harry with no shirt and pastel blue panties hanging from his back pocket, they pay no mind to the teasing catcalls from Lou and El as they walk hand in hand to Louis’ car.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, if I offended anyone I am so sorry. I just wanted to write about Louis being girly and Harry being clueless but really into it. Leave a comment if you liked or hated it and tell me why, I really want criticism on this one since it's a bit touchy. And as always I love Kudos, they make me feel loved. ♡


End file.
